


Yer Blues

by Pauls_broken_a_glass



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love, References to Depression, Sad, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pauls_broken_a_glass/pseuds/Pauls_broken_a_glass
Summary: John discovers Paul secret during the summer of 1969.Triggers: Depression and self harm
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

John came into the Studio Two, late as usual, to be greeted by the scene of Paul and Ringo engaged in something that looked like a bit of a physical fight. When they saw John and Yoko at the door, Ringo let go of Paul's right hand he had been pulling. Paul turned away from them briefly, then, after adjusting his shirt sleeve, turned back around and said "Hi" to the bewildered couple. John noticed slight trembling in his voice.   
  
"What's going on?" he asked. He guessed that Paul had probably got on Ringo's nerves again by trying to record the drumming part himself, and that would not be interesting to him, but he still did not want to be left out.  
Paul replied, "Not a lot," in a now stable voice. He then slung off his bass and walked over to the piano, his eyes lowered to avoid everyone's gaze.   
  
John looked at Ringo to see his blue eyes staring at him, and he could tell the drummer was quite shaken.  
"Well?" he urged, but Ringo just shook his head lightly in reply.  
Not convinced, John said, "What?" to which Ringo mouthed the word 'later', glancing at Paul and making sure he was not looking.   
  
John gave up, and he and Yoko settled onto chairs. George came in with a mug of tea and greeted them. John nodded to him in reply, and after giving Yoko an affectionate smile, he started tuning his guitar.   
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Two hours later, the session was proving quite productive. It was the moments like this that made John wish the band could find a way to carry on beyond this album, which everyone knew would be their last. Whenever they were playing together, the chemistry between the four members was as great as ever, although as soon as they put their instruments down, the differences in the lives they wanted to pursue were so wide that it was painful.   
  
He had almost forgotten about Ringo and Paul's apparent fight earlier when the drummer came up to him and said, "John, can I talk to you for a sec?"  
He looked up to see Ringo's eyes looking sad and scared, and remembered the earlier event. Paul had just gone out of the studio to fetch something to eat.  
"Yeah, go on," John said as he laid his guitar on his lap.   
  
Ringo looked uncomfortably at Yoko and back at John.  
"What?" John demanded.  
"Well, can we..." Ringo started, but was cut in by John's determined voice that said, "No. She stays."   
  
Ringo sighed before saying, "It's about Paul."  
"Okay. What happened?"  
"Um..." Ringo shifted nervously.  
John looked at Yoko, who was sitting without any emotion on her face, then back at his band mate. "Yeah?"   
  
Ringo seemed to give up the hope of talking to John on his own, and continued. "I'm worried about him."  
That surprised John. He had been expecting Ringo to complain about Paul, not express his concern like this. "Why?" he asked.  
"Well..." Ringo trailed off, which made John even more curious.  
"Hey, what happened?" he urged, but Ringo just looked down without saying anything.   
  
"All right," he said as he stood up, grabbed the drummer's arm and pulled him towards the corner of the room. He hated to do this to Yoko, but he had to know what was going on.  
"Tell me now," he said as they reached the spot behind the drum set. He saw George in the corner of his eye, looking at the two of them with a puzzled expression.   
  
Ringo looked up at John, who released his arm and was looking questioningly at him. He said hesitantly, "I think he tried to kill himself."  
John was struck by the sound of the word 'kill'. After staring at his friend for a few seconds silently, he asked dumbly, "Who?"  
"Paul."  
"What?"  
"I think Paul tried to kill himself."   
  
John stared at Ringo, shocked at his last statement. He found it very odd to hear the words 'Paul' and 'kill' in the same sentence. "Why do you say that?"  
"I saw scars on his right wrist," Ringo answered, his eyes sincere and deeply concerned.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yes. That's why he's wearing a long-sleeved shirt, ya know."   
  
John thought it made sense. It was now in August, and it was even hotter in the studio than outside. "How did you see his wrist then?"  
"Well, I got a glimpse of purple on his wrist when he was tuning his bass. I asked him about it...nothing too inquisitive, ya know, I just asked if he had injured himself. Then he suddenly looked all jumpy and sort of tried to hide his hands. I thought it was odd and grabbed his hand. Then I saw... John, it's not just a few tiny scratches I'm talking about. There were four or five slits, and a couple of them were pretty nasty."   
  
As Ringo talked, John just stood, stunned and silent. He could not believe it. Paul had tried to kill himself? But he looked normal to John that day. Not only did he look okay physically, but also he was a workaholic and perfectionist as always. Would a man who had tried to kill himself be so energetic and driven? John knew from his own experience that the eagerness for work was the first thing to go when one was suicidal.   
  
He was shaken out of his trance by Yoko's arm wrapping around his.  
Ringo said quietly, "John, he wouldn't talk to me about it. What're we gonna do?"  
John noticed that Ringo's eyes were a little wet. He sighed deeply and said, still dazed, "Leave it to me."   
  
~ ~ ~  
  
During the hours that followed, John tried to get a view of Paul's right wrist without being noticed. But it turned out to be an impossible task as they started recording the backing track for "Because" and Paul and George went into the control room, while John and Ringo stayed in the studio along with George Martin who played the electric harpsichord.   
  
Some time later, George Harrison came out on his own, walked up to Ringo and asked, "Hey, Rich, what's going on?" He looked slightly irritated, but his tone was somewhat gentle.  
John looked up to see that Paul was still in the control room talking to Geoff Emerick. Ringo gestured for George to come closer, and the two started talking in whispers.  
Yoko turned to John with a face looking even more irritated than George's, and asked, "What's going on, John?"   
  
John saw from the corner of his eye George Martin looking at him inquisitively. He was starting to wonder if he should tell the truth when he realised Paul had left the booth and was descending the stairs which led to the lower floor of the studio. He looked up at Paul, the action which was copied immediately by Yoko and all the guys, and the whole room went quiet. John thought it was a bad idea, but it was too late; everyone was staring at Paul, and the room was dead silent.   
  
Paul stopped, and his face flushed. It was no doubt he realised that everyone had been talking about him. But he did not say anything, just started walking down the stairs again, then went over to one of the chairs and sat on it. He seemed to be trying to appear calm, but his face was so red that it was obvious how embarrassed he was.   
  
Awkward atmosphere enveloped them afterwards, and it did not get any better when all of them went into the control room to listen to the recorded track. As it played, John adjusted his sitting position trying to see Paul's wrist and this was noticed by Paul, who looked back at him with a frown.   
  
John's impatience grew, and it added to the tension. What with everyone's fatigue building up as well, they decided to stop shortly after. It was nearly 11:00pm. Paul packed up and left with incredible speed, without giving anyone any chance to stop him and talk to him.   
  
John got into his Rolls-Royce with Yoko, and instructed the driver to take them to Paul's house. As the car was pulling out, he nodded to his band mates who stood nearby with their eyes following them. He saw Ringo nod back, but did not see George's reaction.   
  
~ ~ ~  
  
At 7 Cavendish Avenue, Linda opened the front door. She stood in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at them, silently questioning them about the reason for their visit.  
"Is Paul in?" John asked urgently. He wished he could just go in and see Paul without having to explain anything to Linda. The situation was too awkward for him to want to put into words.  
"Yes," she said simply, looking up at him with mixed emotions in her eyes.  
"Well...can we come in?"  
She glanced at the fans outside clinging onto the high wall to get a glimpse inside, and silently let John and Yoko in.   
  
As she closed the door, she said, "So you are worried about him."  
John stared at her. What did she mean by that?  
She just stared back. He could tell from her expression that she knew exactly what had happened at the studio earlier on the day.   
  
"Well, what's going on, Linda? Did he try to..." He could not utter 'kill himself'. The words somehow scared him.  
Also it was not like he had seen the scars himself; maybe Ringo had misunderstood something... "Ring saw some scars on his wrist today. ...Did he have some accident?"  
Linda said, surprisingly calmly, "He did it himself."  
"What?"  
"He cuts his own wrist."   
  
Silence fell, which was interrupted by Yoko's "Oh" which unmistakably sounded contemptuous, and John wished for the first time in 14 months that Yoko were not accompanying him.  
Linda's face hardened. Facing John, she said, "You can see him. But she can't."  
He found her bluntness even more irritating than his own rather insensitive wife, and said, "Don't tell us what we can or cannot do. _We_ decide what we do, and we _can_. We're both seeing him."   
  
He started walking past her to go into the house, with Yoko closely beside him, but Linda stopped them, spreading her arms out and putting her heavily pregnant body firmly in front of them, blocking the hallway.  
"Fuck," he muttered, and after hesitating he said, "Suit yourself."  
Then they turned around and left the house.   
  
~ ~ ~  
  
John's concerns grew as they were driven to the hotel in Park Lane they were currently living at while the renovation of their new home in Ascot was being carried out. Linda had said "He cuts his own wrist", not "He cut his own wrist". Did that mean that it was not the first time Paul had done it? Was Paul feeling so bad? And John, who was supposed to know him better than anyone else, had not noticed it?   
  
When they got into the hotel, John headed straight to the bed and lay on it. As he lit a cigarette, he heard Yoko start running a bath in the adjoining bathroom. He stared blankly at the ceiling as he puffed on the cigarette, remembering all that he had seen in the past several hours: Ringo's perplexed eyes, Paul's blushed face as he sat uncomfortably in the middle of the studio, Linda's stoic expression as she confirmed Paul's suicidal actions... Everything seemed so surreal to him that he thought he might be dreaming. And he wanted it to be a dream. He thought about how tiresome it would be if it were not a dream, and felt guilty for finding such a serious situation 'tiresome'.   
  
Suddenly the phone rang loudly on the bedside table, and he jumped. He thought immediately of the possibility of the call being the one to inform him that Paul had succeeded in his suicide attempt, and he shivered. Tentatively he lifted the receiver and pressed it against his ear.   
  
"Hello?"  
"John! How'd it go?" It was Ringo. John breathed out a sigh of relief, and sat up on the bed.  
"Ey, how did it go?" Ringo repeated the question without waiting for John to speak.  
"Eh?"  
"Did you talk to him?"  
"...No," John admitted reluctantly.  
"What?!" John could tell in the harsh tone that the normally-gentle Ringo was angry.  
He blurted out, "Well, it's not my fault, it's Linda's! She wouldn't bloody let us see him!" He omitted the fact that she had indeed allowed him to see Paul if he was to do it without Yoko.   
  
"God, John, I trusted you! You told me to leave it to you!"  
John was going to say something to defend himself when Ringo said, suddenly in a frail voice, "...What if he actually does it tonight?..."  
The shiver came back to John. But he decided to hide it and said, "Nah, I'm sure he's alright. Linda's with him." He did not have the heart to tell Ringo what she had told him.   
  
"Did Linda say anything?"  
"Eh?" John was taken aback, feeling as if his friend had read his mind.  
"You said she didn't let you see him. Does she know anything? ...I guess she does, doesn't she? She must have seen those scars..."  
John decided to tell the truth. "...Yes. She said he cuts his own wrist."  
There was silence. Then, Ringo's shaky voice uttering, "...Oh God, John..."   
  
_Fuck_ , John shouted out in his mind. The moment he had shared the information with Ringo, it suddenly sank in painfully: Paul was trying to kill himself. That confident, passionate Paul, who often looked sad recently...   
  
And what was he doing there, sitting on his bed and doing nothing?  
"I'm gonna go see him," Ringo said, and it was almost like hearing his own thought spoken out. He told Ringo that he was going back there too, and they hung up.  
John called out to Yoko in the bathroom and told her that he was going out. She asked where he was going, but he did not answer. He knew that she knew it anyway. 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

John was nervous as he went up the five steps in front of Paul's house, but he was soon rewarded with Linda's smile as he was let in. She seemed impressed by the fact that he had come back, and that he had done so alone.  
"George is here," she informed him. He knew it, having seen the younger man's car parked outside when he arrived, much to his relief; it seemed he wouldn't have to deal with this on his own.  
Linda then told him that the two men were in the meditation dome in the back garden, and turned to go upstairs herself.   
  
John stopped her by saying, "You not coming?"  
She turned around and shook her head. He was surprised that she was leaving the matter to him and George. It was not like Linda who was always very protective of Paul.  
Seeing John's puzzled face, she explained. "I think it's better I'm not there... He tends to pretend he's okay, you know, when I'm with him."  
John thought about what she said for a moment, then murmured, "Does he?"  
She nodded. Then she turned her body to face him fully and said, "Of course he can't hide what he does, but he belittles it. I've tried to make him open up... I've tried to help him. But...but he doesn't want to be helped! It's really..." She choked up. John felt her pain, but could only stand there helplessly, looking at her.  
She breathed in and out deeply, then finished her sentence by saying, "...difficult. I'd prefer it if he just broke down." She sighed again before she added, "I hope you'll have better luck."  
John nodded as reassuringly as he could, and started walking towards the back garden.   
  
He entered the dome to see in dim light that Paul and George were sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing each other. They were silent, and there was certain tranquil air about the both of them, reminding John of the peaceful time they had had in Rishikesh in the previous year. So much had changed since then...   
  
Hearing John approach, they both looked up at him. George nodded to him, and Paul gave him a weak smile. John sat himself beside George to face Paul, and looked into the eyes of the man he had thought he knew so well, but was not sure anymore.  
Paul's half-smile stayed on his face as he said, "Hi, John."   
  
George spoke up in a calm voice, "Paul...you know why he's here."  
Paul looked at George, nodded to him and then faced back to John. He looked straight into John's eyes for a brief moment, then averted his eyes as he said, "I didn't want this to be known to you guys." Then he tucked up the long sleeve of his shirt which had been unbuttoned at the cuff, revealing his right arm.   
  
John breathed in sharply at the sight. The inner side of Paul's forearm was covered with scars. The ones near his elbow were faded into faint lines, but below them were a dozen or so newer-looking scars, and the ones on the wrist seemed to have been made very recently. Like Ringo had told him, a couple of them looked nasty. They were thin slits with reddish purple flesh rising up in between; they would be healing better if they had been stitched up, but they had obviously been neglected.   
  
John could not take his eyes off the scars for a long time, but when he did he pierced Paul with hard stare and asked, "How long have you been trying to kill yourself?"  
His voice was rough. He felt anger building up inside him: anger at Paul for doing this to himself, and anger at himself for not having noticed that this was going on.  
Paul said urgently, "I'm not trying to kill myself."  
John did not understand why Paul was saying this. Was he still trying to pretend nothing was going on?   
  
"Fuck, Paul, don't lie! Why would you have scars like those if you weren't trying to kill yourself?! Linda even told me you cut your own wrist."  
Paul's mouth opened and then closed, his face bearing a distressed look.  
George put a hand on John's shoulder and said, "Calm down, John. I was asking him the same question. He was going to answer. Just calm down and give him a little time..."   
  
John took a deep breath and nodded, and the room was quiet again. They could hear the distant hum of bugs in the garden outside. Paul pulled down the sleeve to cover his arm again, and looked down at his hands which he placed on top of his crossed legs. He stayed still for a few minutes. John gazed at Paul's lowered head, wondering how much stuff had been going on in there that John knew nothing about.   
  
Paul looked up finally and started talking. "I'm not trying to commit a suicide. I don't want to die... I have a child now, will have two soon, which I am really happy about. You know that. ...But...but I also want to...just...stop feeling this...you know, pain..."   
  
Paul was effortfully getting each word out. John was deeply shocked to see him like this. It was almost affecting his view of life to see his best friend's internal pain come out. 'Pain' was something he thought he knew well. It was an ever-present feeling in him. But he had never known how distressing it would be to see it poured out in front of him by someone else. He thought he should be feeling sympathy, but that was not happening. Instead he was struggling to come to terms with it.   
  
What was coming out of Paul and what could follow if they carried on were so dreadful for John to recognise that he found himself wanting to run away from it all. But at the same time, he felt the need to get to the bottom of it. It was a life-or-death situation they were talking about, and it involved none other than Paul.   
  
He willed himself to stay collected and peered into Paul's eyes. Then he said carefully, "So you do want to die? To stop yourself feeling the pain?"  
Paul shook his head. "No. I don't want to die, but...I have been...it's like I've been obsessed with death. I know it sounds strange. But I keep thinking about death. It feels like death would be...good... I just curse my own mind for feeling this much pain." Then he cast his gaze downwards and said, "I'm sorry."   
  
John and George exchanged glances. The pain Paul was referring to was undoubtedly caused by the increasing tension within the band. John felt guilty, although he had been feeling so much pain himself and often Paul had been the cause of it. He felt bad that he had always been lashing out at Paul about how hurt he was, never giving a thought to how Paul felt. Sometimes, he had to admit, he had even enjoyed seeing Paul hurt; it seemed to make up for the pain Paul was causing him. He just had never thought that Paul could be feeling worse then he was himself.   
  
He looked at Paul again and said, "Paul. Don't apologise. We all have been feeling shit. ...But tell me if I understand you right. Do you mean that you don't really want to die, but you feel so bad sometimes that you think of killing yourself?"  
Paul looked up and said, "No..."   
  
John was confused. Paul was not making much sense.  
Seeing his friend's baffled face, Paul added, "Listen, John. When I first cut myself, it felt good. It was like my obsession with death was lifted from me. I wasn't trying to kill myself; I cut the middle of my arm because I thought if I cut my wrist you guys would see it when I next saw you. ...See, I was expecting to see you again, so I wasn't trying to kill myself."   
  
George joined in and said, "I don't get how cutting yourself can feel good. And why do you keep doing it?"  
Paul thought for a while and then replied, "It's the pain...physical pain. It's blood. It's seeing my body respond."  
"So you pretend to kill yourself?" John asked unbelievingly. He could not believe what Paul was saying, and how detached he seemed about it all.  
Paul looked at him, and replied with his face all innocent, "Yes, I think you could say that..."   
  
John leaned forward, and standing on his knees, grabbed Paul's shoulders. "You pretend? You fucking pretend to kill yourself?!"  
He suddenly had a vision enter his mind of a dying Paul with blood flowing out from his arm, and he was fiercely angry again. "Fucking hell, Paul! You could really die doing that!"  
Paul reached up to John's hands on his shoulders and tried to take them off. As he struggled, he said, "No I couldn't! Listen, John, humans don't die so easily."   
  
John let go of Paul's shoulders, and grabbed his hands instead. The amiability of the position made Paul stop struggling.  
But John continued to shout. "But look at you! Look at all those scars on you! Who does that?! You're fucked up, man."  
George reached out and pulled John back slowly with both hands. Then he said to Paul, "He's right, Paul. You're stupid to do it. It's dangerous. ...And it doesn't solve anything, does it? It doesn't take any of your pain away..."   
  
"George. John," Paul said calmly, looking at his friends in turn. There was an almost ethereal look on his face as he continued, "When I put a knife on my right arm, suddenly strength draws away from my left hand. I push the blade hard onto my skin, and I slide it firmly against it, but it takes so much pushing and grinding to make a cut. You wouldn't know this unless you've done it, but it's true. I think it is natural defence mechanism working in me. It takes so much to cut myself. ...And that makes me see things clearly again. It shows me that I do want to live."   
  
John stared at Paul, taken aback. Nothing had ever felt more surreal than hearing such nonsense from Paul.  
When he had somewhat recovered, he said with his gaze fixed firmly on Paul, "You're barmy. You cut yourself. You cut your own body, you bleed, and you need that to know you want to live."  
He moved up to Paul, took hold of his shoulders again and whispered into his face, "Those scars, Paul, they're nasty. You'll bleed to death one day while you're trying to make sure you want to live! What the fuck, Paul?!"   
  
Paul retained a calm expression as he pulled back slightly and said, "No... Bleeding stops, John. I'll never die from these cuts. You'd have to cut it much deeper to..."  
John interrupted him by simply talking louder than him. "Look at YOU! You're saying anything to defend your crazy actions. And why did you cut your wrist this time? What about not wanting us to see? You don’t care anymore, do you? You don't fucking care!"   
  
"It was just..." Paul stammered. "It was just there was no space left..."  
"So what?!" John was even louder. He leaned in further, pulling the younger man towards him, and said, "What were you going to do next then? Cut your hands? Legs? Or that pretty face?"  
Then he pulled himself back and surveyed Paul's face and body. Flushed, and healthy. Looking perfect. And the man was trying to cut them all up himself.   
  
"That's easy for you to say," Paul protested, and it was now his turn to lean in on John. His lips were pulled in a thin line for a few seconds, then he opened them to say, "You are happy we're breaking up. You are happy it's all messed up!"  
John was rather happy to see Paul fight back. It seemed like his normal, sane Paul was back.  
But it did not last long. Paul stopped, and closed his lips tightly. He swallowed hard before he continued in a much weaker voice, "I've messed it up... I just... I tried to... You don't know how much I want us to stay together. However much I want it, I can't have it, and I can't _not_ have it. It's not a choice for me. I'm scared..."   
  
John stroked down Paul's shoulders with his hands as he heard him mumble, "...It's like hanging from a cliff top. I'm scared of the height, clinging onto the cliff, only to drop soon and smash onto the bottom. I just sometimes wish I would just drop NOW."  
Paul's eyes, which had looked lively and passionate only seconds ago, now looked blank and drained. John was alarmed by that and the last sentence Paul had uttered; it sounded nothing but suicidal to him.   
  
He decided to avoid the subject of the band's deteriorating state. If he said he didn't want out, it would be a lie. But it was not a good idea to repeat the truth now and upset Paul unnecessarily. So he said, "Look, I know that's easy for me to say. But do you know it's not easy for me to see you like this?"   
  
He stopped and studied Paul's expression. He seemed to be thinking carefully about what John had just said. John was pleased that he seemed to be getting through to Paul. He looked over at George, and saw that he was looking at him expectantly. This encouraged him into saying the thing he thought would most probably make Paul come to his senses.  
"And look at what you are doing to Linda... She's carrying your kid, and you're doing this to yourself."  
As soon as he had said it, he knew he had said a wrong thing, because tears suddenly started flowing down Paul's cheeks.   
  
Paul cried silently, trying to hide his face and wiping the tears that were rolling down uncontrollably. John sat helplessly facing him while George crawled up to Paul and started rubbing his back.  
John found the sight almost unbearable. Paul was so fragile now, so sensitive...too sensitive. He did not know how to deal with it. He did not want to deal with it. It had always been his job, not Paul's, to act unreasonably, thinking he was allowed to do it because people just kept on hurting him. He had had no idea Paul had kept so much emotion hidden inside him. He was almost angry at Paul for breaking down like this without giving any notice beforehand. He felt as if he had been let down by Paul.   
  
John's thoughts were broken by a familiar voice calling Paul's name. It was Ringo. He saw him tumble over from his position just inside the door of the dome to the crying man on the floor, and pull him into a tight hug. Paul remained quiet, killing his sobs and trying to hide his tears in vain. He let Ringo hold him and soothe him, while George sat very closely behind him.   
  
John knew he should join them and comfort Paul, and he wanted to. But at the same time he wanted to just run away. The option of running away looked more attractive as minutes went by, and it was the one he decided to take in the end. After all, he thought, Ringo and George were there for him. Paul would be okay...like he always was...   
  
Deep down he knew Paul was not okay this time, but he ignored it. He stood up, walked over and opened the door. He heard George and Ringo call his name in unison, but he ignored them and left.   
  
The world looked like a totally different place when he was outside and looked up at the clear, cheerful sky filled with stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?


	3. Please read

Hi everyone, 

I haven't posted any stories for a while now and it feels like I need to give you an explanation on why. The truth is that I haven't been feeling very good mentally these last few years and last winter I started feeling really bad. I haven't had any evergy to write or do anything for that matter so until I feel better I am probably not going to update any of these stories. I've also been very busy since I actually became a mum about a year ago so I don't really have time to do anything else than taking care of my daughter. 

I hope that you all understand my reasons, I feel so sad that I have to stop writing this story and I don't even know if I will finish it but thank you all who have read it and supported me! I appreciate you all so much! <3 

Remember to stay healthy and wash your hands! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you thought of this chapter! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated though they keep me inspired!


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